Today is April 8th, 2013, and I am still here.
Today is April 8th. It’s sunny, and its actually a lot warmer outside than it has been in a few days, which I find kind of odd. To anyone else it would seem that Spring is coming, and that would be a good thing. It’s not really the same for me.
April 8th has such a dark connotation for me. At least, it has for a while. I’ve been dreading this day, thinking it would be awful, that I wouldn’t really be able to handle it… etc, etc. Not any more though.
You see, April 8th, 2012 (exactly a year ago), was the day I almost died. I don’t like to say it’s the day I tried to kill myself… because I don’t think that’s what I was doing. Something else was trying to kill me - something more complex than just a human being, although we are extremely complicated lifeforms. No, there was something inside of me that was trying to get out, and take me out in the process.
A year ago today it was Easter Sunday. A day spent with family (great….), egg hunting, eating, all the usual things. Only… It wasn’t the same for me. I hadn’t had a good relationship with anyone in my family for a while. I definitely wasn’t on good terms with any of them. I wanted to go away; in fact, I remember leaving as soon as I could to go for a walk with my friend who was visiting from Virginia (that was his last day before he went back).
I remember I started harming myself early that day. It had been a habit of mine for about a year then, and it had gotten progressively worse. I stopped when my friend called me to hang out and forgot for a little while… but when I got home, my mood took a turn for the worse. Certain stressors didn’t really help. It just… it wasn’t good.
I don’t know what came over me and here is where my memory fades. The next thing I can picture is staring up at my ceiling from my bed. There is a puddle of blood on the floor next to me, and a blue towel in my lap stained with red. There’s a razor in one hand, which is also bleeding, although not as severely as my left arm, which is dangling over the side of my bed. The room starts spinning and I know I need help… so slowly, I got up and walked to my door.
I made it to the top of the stairs. I could hear the TV on downstairs… and I realized they really had no clue what was going on in their daughter’s bedroom. And I just couldn’t. I turned back in to my room and made even more cuts. There was so. Much. Blood. I even tried to get up again; but once more, I just turned away, unable to go downstairs.
My body was going dumb and I felt dizzy, and my head really started to hurt. My hands were ice cold. I could feel myself dying. And again, my memory fades. All I can remember after that was pressing the play button on my iPod, and the sound of my favorite bands flowing through my speakers.
And I remember forcing myself up and going to the bathroom and starting the shower. The water at my feet was a deep pink as all the redness was washed away from my arms, disappearing down the drain.
When I was done I went downstairs and sat huddled in sweat pants and a sweatshirt, reflecting on what I’d done. I was horrified and sad and part of me wanted to keep going and had no idea why I’d stopped… and the other half told me it was going to be okay. Maybe that was the half with a headphone in.
Since that day, I’m not going to say that my life has become perfect, because it hasn’t. But it’s gotten better. I still struggle. I’m still sad sometimes. But you know what gets me through? knowing that I didn’t die that night. And the music that saved me. I like to think of all the things I would have missed out on… playing with my niece and nephews, marching band, hell - even some fun during school and all the people I’ve met online and the nights I spent scrolling on my dash. All the laughs I’ve had and the tears I’ve cried and the memories I’ve shared. I’m glad I got to have those.
I even found new music, which is was I’m really thankful for. You Me At Six, We Came As Romans, Mayday Parade, Of Mice & Men, Bring Me The Horizon… Hell, I got a lot more in to Pierce the Veil shortly afterwards too, and I’m glad I got that chance. I’m glad I get to put my headphones in my ears all day. I’m glad I get sung to sleep every night.
I’m glad people like Deanna and Ryan came more in to my life, even if they were a part of it before. I realize that I would have hurt them had I left… and I’m glad that I didn’t. I have scars to show from all of this. Scars that have faded; some fresher than others. They are constant reminders to carry around with me… not that I really mind them there. They’ll be there for life; and that’s okay. But enough of that.
Let’s get to the point. April 8th, 2012, was Easter - a day not of death, but of resurrection. April 8th, 2012 was the day my life started to turn in all different directions. Mostly for the better, although I know I’ve got a lot more hardships to overcome. But I know I can get through them one way or another.
April 8th, 2012, was not the day that I almost died.
It was the day that I survived.
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